


Run

by EthanTheAnnus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Gen, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Introspection, Pain, SBI are family, but not rlly, minor hurt/comfort, no beta we die like george in manhunt, tho tommy isnt mentioned in the fic, to some extent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27720410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EthanTheAnnus/pseuds/EthanTheAnnus
Summary: Techno takes a hesitant bite out of the steak. It tastes normal. He relaxes, just a little.He looks up at Wilbur again. Maybe he’s not looking a devil in the eyes. Just a fallen angel.-OR-Techno runs when he should have stayed.
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Wilbur Soot
Comments: 5
Kudos: 119





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> whos up for some p a i n

The world is falling at his feet, crashing down around him and breaking apart, and all he can do is run. He’s not a hero, never was, he’s a coward, plain and simple, and so he keeps running with no destination in mind. All he knows is he can’t and won’t stay here, where everything he knows is shattering to pieces like fractured glass. 

The ground feels unsteady under his feet. He’s half-scared the dirt and grass is going to crumble away and send him tumbling into the abyss. The calls of his family have long since vanished, the sounds of swords clashing and arrows hitting flesh left far behind him.

His reputation is clearly tarnished by now, but he can’t bring himself to care. He just keeps running until he can’t anymore, collapsing at the base of an oak tree with little more than the clothes on his back and the few weapons in his inventory. He has no food; he hadn’t planned to run.

Now he might just starve. His head drops back against the harsh bark of the tree. He almost laughs, dry and humourless, but he doesn’t have the strength. His body aches like the entire universe is rested on his shoulders.

He’s pathetic. Everyone he knew looked up to him, and this is what he does. He runs when he’s needed the most.

It’s rather fitting, really. Technoblade, the most skilled fighter of them all, unpredictable and wild, flees when he should stay. And stays when he shouldn’t.

He’s exhausted. The sun is setting. He couldn’t have stayed awake if he tried.

He doesn’t expect to wake back up. This is the end for him, and he’s glad to know he won’t be awake to feel it.

*********

Techno’s surprised to wake up to sunlight filtering through the leaves; in fact, he’s surprised to have woken up at all. The reason he’s conscious becomes clear as a second splash potion lands on him. His tired, pained muscles seem to untense.

_ Healing,  _ he thinks, groggily shifting. Steak is pressed into his hands, and he nearly bites into it before he thinks to look up and see who’s come to his rescue. If he can even call it rescue when he’d expected and even anticipated his own death.

He finds himself looking into the eyes of one of his brothers, a tall, dark haired devil looming over him. Wilbur’s smile is almost twisted, like he’s ready to sink his fangs into the necks of anyone who gets in his way. Suddenly Techno doesn’t feel like eating the meat Wilbur handed to him.

“Why are you here?” he rasps, his voice husky from lack of use. Wilbur tilts his head in a way that somehow makes him more threatening.

“We’re both fuck ups,” he says simply. “And I’m not letting you be alone.”

Techno takes a hesitant bite out of the steak. It tastes normal. He relaxes, just a little. 

He looks up at Wilbur again. Maybe he’s not looking a devil in the eyes. Just a fallen angel.

Wilbur stretches out his hand, and Techno takes it, letting his brother haul him to his feet. He feels a little unsteady, but the healing potions have worked wonders on him, so he doesn’t immediately collapse.

“Is there anywhere we can go that they won’t find us?” Techno asks, hating how small he sounds.

“I hope so.”

Techno draws his sword and grins lopsidedly at his brother. “Let’s get moving.”

“You better not collapse on me,” Wilbur warns, lifting his axe from where he’d leant it against a tree, slinging it over his shoulder. Techno manages a laugh despite their situation.

“I’ll try not to.”

Wilbur tosses Techno another steak, and the hybrid miraculously catches it despite the lazy toss. Wilbur looks around, then, and picks a random direction, striding off. Techno follows him, albeit a lot slower, his body still protesting after the small marathon he ran yesterday.

He turns back towards the direction of home, or at least, what used to be home. He can’t go back, not ever. He fled when he shouldn’t have, and now he had to live with himself, with that choice, for the rest of his life.

Techno hefts his sword and turns back to keep walking, squaring his shoulders. The sooner he can accept that there’s people he’ll never see again, the better off he’ll be. Besides, now one of his brothers is with him, which is better than no one.

He’s still not sure if he’d prefer this or death.

***********

Techno’s the one to mine into the side of the mountain, Wilbur left to build their main house. The mundaneness of swinging his pickaxe into the cobble and ores to get the beginnings of a mine started for them keeps his focus. The work is gruelling, but it stops him from thinking about all he’s lost.

From all the things he threw away the second he started running.

Techno swings violently at some iron ore. Instead of popping free, it shatters. The cracked pieces of ore crunch under his feet says he turns away.

Everything he touches seems to shatter these days. The world is made up of glass, and Techno is the sledgehammer, swinging into everything and smashing it to pieces. Sometimes, he’s not sure if he’s the one wielding the sledgehammer, or if someone else is the one behind it all.

He swings his pickaxe into some stone. It pops out, making a clean hole in the side of the mine. Techno’s muscles ache as he swings again, carving out more of the wall.

Every swing of his pickaxe reminds him painfully that he ran. Every swing of his pickaxe takes his mind off the fact that he ran. It’s a vicious cycle of clearing his mind and not clearing it all at once.

“How’s the mining going?”

Techno turns to see his brother standing on the haphazard staircase he’d mined out moments before, leaned slightly against one of the walls. Techno kicks a piece of the iron ore rubble.

“Absolutely perfect,” he says with a strained smile. The look Wilbur gives him is one full of concern.

Techno turns to take another swing at the wall. Wilbur plucks the pickaxe from his grip, and he doesn’t have the strength to try and fight back. 

“I set up beds,” Wilbur says softly, and it’s hard for Techno to connect him with the hell-ish look he’d had the day he practically revived Techno. “Come on.”

Techno turns, but instead of following Wilbur up out of the mine, he throws himself at his brother. Wilbur tenses, but Techno just pulls him into a tight hug. Finally, he lets himself cry.

Wilbur returns to embrace. “It’s going to be okay.”

Techno isn’t sure that it is. He isn’t sure that it ever will be. But at least he’s not alone.

It’s him and Wilbur. Two brothers, two fuck ups; them against the world.

Hopefully they’ll manage to make things right eventually.


End file.
